about

I was just shocked there were not more icepicks in town. I know the age of ice ended a quite a while ago, but still. At least you will be prepared if confronted by any. Or picking the brains of cold minds. “An icepick is a tool used to break up, pick at, or chip at ice.” Not to be confused with an icepick lobotomy or human sacrifice, or a hot glue gun. Famous weapon of choice for mobsters and to kill Leon Trotsky.

Hey there, yeah you, with the ears! Four Horses of the Cannonball Statman Anti-Apocalypse: The Devil, A Starving Artist, A Norseman, A Former Presidential Candidate. (And The Dick Jokes.) Starts slow with his fingers on the table, starts with a mental image. All of a sudden it sounds like Joie Dead Blonde Girlfriend is back at the Raven. This is post-Dogcore Antifolk. And we need more American-Anymenized Antifolk orbiting around the human universe.

Frostbite was in the air, it was a cold winter. He had to walk in that frozen weather from E Sixth and Ave A to W Eighth and 6th Ave, because his train wasn't running from 2nd Ave or Bway-Lafayette. His hands are still a bit numb from that. Though he has no risk of more than a light mist that would graze the very outside of his fur, he’s not afraid of the bleeding in his brain. His mind is cold and he is somebody.

There’s a dog barking in the distance there’s Joe Crow in the distance, a symphony of distance. Faster and faster haunted sounds in distance even stretching back to Antifolk 2004 1994 1984 the best in the world tell me it’s the best in the world tell me it’ll take over the world. We already did we all went crazy too. Down by the gallows, we’re all hanging too. He’s the horse, down Avenue A street after street I don’t know what this craze is all about but all his friends will come hang with you, see you down at the SideWalk see you down at the Fort and soon you’ll be hangin’ too. And you’ll become the history that caught up with you.

Carlos has been on fire for a long time now and Alicia Keys still doesn’t know. How many nights has he been sitting in his wheelchair out there on the Avenue? He’s just Cannonball Statman with a guitar he’s not ready for this. And you don’t need the Dormouse to tell you to feed your head, you don’t need the Apocalypse to tell you that everyone is dead. It’s getting colder out there but it’s fierier down on Essex at Old Man Hustle with Brer Brian and Monster’s harmonica in the almost totally empty black night, drunk girl from Massachusetts asks for a rendition of “Freefallin’” by Tom Brady and Cannonball obliges it blows up into a symphonic overdrive with that late-night streetlight buzz in your ear steam pouring out of the pipe in the street behind a big poodle dog’s hair. He’s part human, and part dog. Woof! Woof! (repeat chorus)

On a mission with a fishing pole hanging out with all those Lower East Side cats and rats and Richard Ringer and Sister Chain and Brother John, and Robin Goldsmith and Nico in the half hot sun lackadaisical evening all those hipsters walking their dogs over at Super Fantastic Happy Fun GO TIME! with Kirk Kelly. He’s going fishing and that something he’s gonna catch is you catch you with Walter Ego Make Music New York unknown singers wandering around during the day. He Is Brook Pridemore. Catch yew down the subway busking with Zoe Z catch yew at Goodbye Blue Monday with Debe Dalton catch yew at The Spiral Staircase with Phoebe Novak Dogs vs. Cats. Phoebe is a punk rocker. Catch yew at SideWalk with the Grasping Straws and Bob Black, catch yew down at Tribes for Catweazle and catch yew at Under St. Marks with Satan. There’s Jim Flynn.

Used to raise cats but a monster stole them took them to the woods to die in the woooods I AM the tiger and you’re staying with ME. He had a dream of your life thinkin’ about your eyes a love song for the apocalypse a fairytale of the woods lost in the night on the trains lost on Bleecker Street lost on Ludlow Street way out at Deep Tanks the corpse on the table the voice the face the corpse all those demons, Lorraine Leckie’s demons, sometimes they have milkshakes sometimes they don’t have anything but Ray’s Candy Store always has everything. Even tarot card bubble-tea. It’s a cult. Woof meow.

He likes feeding propaganda and candy to the people—propaganda, candy, drugs, roses, chocolate, claws, water, flaxseeds, rock and roll, nails, the Devil—they're just waiting for something to fall out of the sky and into their consciousness. Songs that disintegrate gradually, in fits and starts. It’s morphosymphonic. What is this human doing! This song is not going the way it was before. This is the Morse Code version. The songs are speaking to you and you are the telegraph.

Now serving a life sentence for stabbing the giant plastic frog who lives in the Greenpoint Gallery with an icepick, a ghost in the body of a human the center of attention in the center of the aisle Lana says please don’t stand here at the open mic you meet a lot of people who talk kind of funny he’ll follow his demons from song to song from year to year from subway to subway in the New York City transit system wasted away by the MTA. Touching You says only assholes take the train holy ghost holy ghost holy ghost seven seven seven. The floodgates have opened of all that was once ice, and it turns into the April sun life. Insane in the membrane, insane like an airplane. He’s mellow, like yellow. This show is “pure set,” and by that I mean undiluted. He hopes you surface so he can bark at yew.

- Bernard King, 4/17/14

credits

released 17 April 2014

All music and lyrics written & performed by Cannonball Statman.
Recording engineered & produced by Cannonball Statman.
Album artwork & layout by Cannonball Statman.

contact / help

Eli sat by the window, with his fingers on the table,
all the brains, paper, pencils circled 'round him, tried to zero in.
Mental image of the fretboard on his right hand caught his eye, like the sunbeam from the window.
When the glass hit his face, it made sixteen cuts above his jaw.

It was said, he was dead,
he remains on two inch tape.
In the storm of poison that rode South through Yonkers,
beat Manhattan, like a skull beats its mirror.

Did you see that?
Hey there, the black coat and the white hair.
Frostbite is in the air.

I'm not afraid of that man, I'm not afraid of the beasts who killed him,
I'm not afraid of the box I live in, or the holes I sleep in.
I'm afraid of the bleeding in my brain, and the rusted metal in my chest.
When the glass hit my face. it shot eighteen years of energy out of a cannon.

Crystal said, when I'm dead,
I'll be remembered by my friends.
As a machine, so efficient,
I was almost living and breathing.

Did you see that?
Hey there, the black coat and the white hair.
Frostbite is in the air.

Mental image of the steel strings on my right hand struck a chord, like the electric man behind the wall,
and his hand hit my face, it sent raging up my ribcage.

Sparrow said, we're all dead,
and there must be something wrong in my head.
When I shot out of that cannon,
I was almost living and breathing.

Did you see that?
Hey there, the black coat and the white hair.
Frostbite is in the air.

Track Name: Horse

Tell me I'm the best in the world, 'cause I'm the best in the world,
'cause I'm the best in the world.
Tell me I'll take over the world, 'cause I'll take over the world,
'cause I'll take over the world.
Hey you! S'il vous plait, nourrir le cheval!

Send me far away from this, I don't know what this craze is all about.
If we all go crazy too, I know all my friends will come hang with you.
I'm the horse, and I come first. See you down by the gallows and soon I'll be hangin' too.
I'm the horse, and I come first. See you down by the gallows and soon I'll be hangin' too.

Send me far away from this, I don't know what this craze is all about.
If we all go crazy too, I know all my friends will come hang with you.
I'm the horse, and I come first. See you down by the gallows and soon I'll be hangin' too.
I'm the horse, and I come first. See you down by the gallows and soon I'll be hangin' too.

Track Name: Carlos is on Fire

Carlos is on fire, and Alicia doesn't know, 'cause she's famous-er than anyone I know.
He's just an old man in a wheelchair, singin' for strangers.
Hopes that one day she'll see. Hopes that one day she'll notice.
Carlos is on fire, and Alicia soon will know, he's fiery-er than anyone she knows.

And I'm just Cannonball Statman with a guitar. Yeah, really that's all I know.
I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this fire.
I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this fire.
So keep your copyright, I don't know how to use it.
Save it for someone who really needs it.

Carlos is on fire, and Alicia soon will know.
He's fiery-er than anyone else.

Track Name: Midnight in Kingston

Drivin' at night on the highway, eyes fixed on the road.
Someone told me just that night it was hard to let things go.
We dance around in circles, and soon, we pretend to feel.
We dance around in circles, and decide what really happened.
And it's getting colder.

They were playin' some kind of music down the stairs the other night,
and I thought of you. Or someone I knew.
And it's getting colder, they've been tryin' to put you away for awhile and now they finally have.
Just another thing to worry about.

Drivin' at night on the highway, eyes fixed on the road.
Someone told me just that night it was hard to let things go.
I've been avoiding this feeling that nothing much was real.
We dance around in circles, and decide what really mattered.
And it's getting colder.

And you didn't know what to do about this little bit of jet lag,
but soon you'll forget, and remember again.
And it's getting colder, they've been tryin' to put you away for awhile and you couldn't see.
You'll wonder if they're real and they will be for just awhile.

Starin' at you on the subway, nowhere much to go.
Nothin' much to lose except for everyone I know.
Midnight in Kingston, and I don't remember why.
Someone told me just that night there was something after you died.
And it's getting colder.
The days are getting shorter.

Track Name: Couch Potato

You don't need the Dormouse to tell you to feed your head.
You don't need the apocalypse to tell you everyone is dead.
You don't need to wake up in the morning,
hey, you don't need a bed.

You don't need to dig your grave, you can die on command.
But you need hot glue guns, and a soft pillow.
Hot glue guns, and a couch potato.

Sometimes, I can't move.

Track Name: Shark

I'm not in town, I'm out on the road,
and everyone I know is gathered in the city tonight.
I'm on a mission, headed to the ocean,
to waste a life, with a fishing pole.

There's too many obstacles in my path,
too many demons in my head.
Cats and rats hangin' out on my bed,
but there's a shark in the ocean - I've got a fishing pole!

She's buried in the corner, waits for dinner.
Doesn't speak Chinese, she can't help decipher
the mysterious book I got in the mail.
The man with the gold in the mouth of the room
sits beneath the Martian, the boy from space camp,
livin' poisonous dreams. But he's a free man now.
I am a ghost in the body of a human,
watch me crawl, wait up for the morning,
I'm the center of attention in my mind.

Watch me crawl, wait up for the morning,
I'm the center of attention in my mind.
The center of attention in my mind.

Then I took the train to another country,
and I met a local woman who talked kind of funny,
I knew we'd die in the end.
Threw paper at each other, like a one hit wonder,
in the motel room, lightning, thunder,
fire, ice, and piercing screams.
Woke up in the morning with gunfire out my window,
and, oh, my demons, follow me where I go.
And I'll follow until I'm dead.
I'll follow my demons until I'm dead.

I'm sitting in front of a wall, early on a Monday morning,
every day those weird, pink puzzles of bone and ego
spill like manic paint into the New York City Transit System.
One goes here, one goes there.
Everyone is from somewhere, and now they are nowhere.
Liquids and kids campaign for the right to be solid.
Bernard's pale lavender voice remains glued to the back of my TV screen.
Holy ghost, holy ghost, holy ghost.

My neighbors and I used to raise cats,
a monster stole them, took them to the woods to die.
I was so angry, I cut off my hair.
Then someone told me they're better off there.
In the woods. In the woods.

Last night, I went thinking about your eyes.
And I had a dream of your life.
The frightened storm, dark skies.
Full moon rose tonight.

My friend lost his true love, standing in the garden.
She was taken by a tiger.
That could never happen to me.
I am the tiger, and you're stayin' with me.
In the woods. In the woods.

Last night, I went thinking about your eyes.
And I had a dream of your life.
The frightened storm, dark skies.
Full moon rose tonight.

This is the story of my friend, yeah,
he didn't last long.
In the woods. In the woods.

Lost in the night, I went thinking about my past.
With one eye closed, had a dream of your life.
The garden gates shut, yeah, I took you away.
I came back to life that night.

Last night, I went thinking about your eyes.
And I had a dream of your life.
The frightened storm, dark skies.
Full moon rose tonight.

Track Name: Buxus

The corpse on the table is staring at me,
the voice in the window is screaming at me.
The face in the window is running away,
'cause the view from out the window must be totally crazy.
The voice on the radio had a word to say,
I don't remember a thing that happened today.

I still don't know if I'm from Hell,
or if Hell is raging inside of me.
Maybe I'm makin' Hell on Earth,
and Earth is extracting fire from my skin.

I met a lady on the Metro home,
she said her name was Almond Plum.
She was rooted in the ground like a tall tree,
but she sat in the seat in front of me.
She said hello, but what I heard was
"come with me if you want to live",
I counted nine dead trees on my walk from the Metro today.

I wouldn't tell my closest friend, but
I threw your corpse into the ocean.
It was sitting on the table, staring at me.
I felt like I was being watched.

Sometimes they have burgers at the burger place,
sometimes they just have milkshakes.
Sometimes they just have whatever they want,
and that's when they don't have anything.

The corpse on the table is staring at me.
I'm starin' at the corpse on the table, and
now I don't feel like anything.